


Dreams at Sixteen

by finkpishnets (orphan_account)



Category: American Idol RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-02
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She listens and she files and she sings and then she takes a breath and starts all over again. It’s a lot but it’s all she wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams at Sixteen

**Author's Note:**

> I'M NOT GOING TO TRY AND EXPLAIN THIS, mostly because I can't. I didn't even watch Season 10 of American Idol, except, lo and behold, kohlrimmedeye said "YOU SHOULD GO WATCH THIS GIRL LAUREN'S AUDITION" and so I did, and then we sort of fell in love with her despite the fact that that's the only time we've heard her sing. So, I wrote this for Jenn way back before the live shows had even started (I think). Which explains the totally AU vibe of it. Oh gosh.

Lauren is sixteen and trying to find her place in a music competition amongst people older and more experienced and arguably more talented than her and it’s scary – more than scary – but she wants it more than she’s ever wanted anything in her life.

She listens to every piece of advice, files it away in the new set of folders in her head labeled _Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I made it_ , and says thank you with a genuine smile.

She listens and she files and she sings and then she takes a breath and starts all over again.

It’s a lot but it’s all she wants.

 

+

 

There’s more than one TV in the contestants house but for the first few weeks they all crowd into the front room together anyway, flicking through channels until they land on something they can agree on – normally MTV or E! – and soon they won’t want to know what the world has to say, but for now they still need to feel somewhat validated.

It’s only her and Tim in here at the moment, the cameraman getting shots of Tim frowning at his muted keyboard, and she’s really only watching music videos in an attempt not to feel so homesick.

There’s a boyband on screen, young and smiley and cute, and her eyes follow them as they move just a little awkwardly, like it’s all new to them; Lauren knows how they feel. The song’s catchy, and she wonders if they’re the UK’s sweethearts right now. Probably. There’s something _nice_ about them.

“Those are Simon’s new boys,” Jack the cameraman says, and it takes Lauren a second to realize he means _Simon Cowell_ , and she nods as she turns back around.

One of the blond boys is singing, smile tugging at the corners of his lips like he’s fighting to try and stay serious even though he really wants to be grinning, and she wonders how many takes they had to do to even get this.

They should have let him smile.

She kind of wants to smile back.

 

+

 

Lauren’s too old to be listening to boybands, kind of, really, but she downloads the song anyway, smiling into her hand as she taps her toe to the chorus.

If she were at home she could have posters above her bed and giggle with her friends, but she’s not, and maybe she feels too old for that anyway.

The song still ends up on her iTunes Top 25 list after a week. If anyone asks she’s going to play the “ _I’m sixteen_ ” card.

 

+

 

Every week she makes it through she has to pinch herself to believe it. People are actually _voting_ for her, and it’s an amazing feeling.

They work hard, hard, hard, only stopping for sleep, and that’s okay because this is all any of them want and the opportunity to be on stage is all they’ve ever asked for. She gets on well with the others and it’s hard to see people go each week but she knew what she was getting into and, well, she wants to _win_.

Everyone does though, so no one can blame her.

Sometimes they get to go to _Events_ (capitalized and italicized in her head) and walking down a red carpet wearing a sparkly dress and heels she’s still trying to learn to _stand_ in is a magical experience all on its own. She tries not to blush and stammer as she shakes the hands of people she’s only seen on a TV screen before and she’s mortified that time she spills Diet Coke over Zac Efron’s jacket, but he just laughs as his girlfriend hands him a tissue from her purse and says he’ll vote for her anyway.

She talks to interviewers and tries not babble as they ask her how she’s finding the competition, what it’s like standing up there each week in front of the judges, and she smiles as she answers and hopes she doesn’t just come across as another scared little girl biting off more than she can chew.

She wonders how long it will take for this to feel normal if she makes it ( _when she makes it, when she makes it_ ) or if it just never does.

Lauren thinks it’d be okay if it never lost the magic, actually.

 

+

 

“Oh,” he says, “sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was out here.”

He’s Irish. She hasn’t thought about what he’d sound like when he wasn’t singing but it makes a kind of sense.

“Hi,” Lauren says eventually when she’s been quiet too long.

“Hey,” he says. “Uh, did you want to be alone?”

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I just needed some air.”

He grins, and it’s just how she’d thought it’d be, bright and open and honest.

She grins back.

She knew she would.

“I know what you mean,” he says, and then: “Oh, I’m Niall.”

“Lauren,” she says, feeling her cheeks flush.

They stand there for a while and it should feel awkward except all she’s really aware of is the silly fluttering in her stomach.

“Um,” she says after a while, fingers bunching in the fabric of her skirt, “I like your band.”

Niall blinks, surprised, and Lauren shrugs a little, huffing out a laugh.

“Cheers,” he says. “Most people over here don’t know us.”

“No,” she agrees.

“So, um, are you a singer?” he asks and she nods.

“Yeah,” she says, “or I want to be. I don’t know which it is. I’m on _American Idol_?”

It feels silly saying that aloud but his eyes light up in understanding.

“ _Oh_ ,” he says, “cool! We were on _The X Factor_.”

Lauren finds herself relaxing, just a bit, ‘ _we’re the same_ ’ dancing across the back of her eyes in a way that makes her feel like she’s a little girl experiencing her first crush all over again.

He grins.

She grins back.

 

+

 

She doesn’t win the competition but she gets further than she’d ever thought to hope. She hugs her mom, cries into her shoulder, and then offers the camera watery smiles that are honest nevertheless and says that she’s loved every minute, wants to thank everyone for giving her this opportunity. She’s still young. Has her whole future ahead of her.

Backstage she hugs Tim, whispers “I hope you win” into his ear and lets him calls her ‘kid’ without complaint.

She packs up her bags and moves to the hotel they’re putting her up in so she doesn’t have to fly back again for the finale in a few weeks time. She goes on _Ellen_ and giggles as she sings before getting a huge hug from the woman herself who tells her she’s adorable.

It’s okay.

She goes on twitter just so she can send a ‘thank you’ to Ellen for a great Monday morning; she rarely checks her account, has been much too busy and much too scared of all the _dos and don’t_ s they’ve had drilled in their heads, and her @replies are _crazy_. She almost clicks out, is kind of overwhelmed, but one catches her eye as her mouse hovers over the x.

 **NiallOfficial**  
 _@Lauren_Alaina_ you were amazing

A lot of people have been saying _you should have won_ to her over the past forty-eight hours (apart from the people that haven’t) and she doesn’t like it, refuses to be _that girl_ with a false sense of her own importance and her own talent.

This isn’t that though, and it makes her heart speed up, her teeth biting gently at her bottom lip. There are butterflies in her stomach again and she wonders if that’s what a crush feels like no matter how old you are or if she’s just lucky enough to be young and happy and in like.

She hesitates for ages, getting up to jump around her hotel room and tugging at her hair as she tries to build up the courage to reply. It’s _stupid_ , she knows it is, but she can’t _help_ it.

 **Lauren_Alaina**  
 _@NiallOfficial_ thank you x

She can’t believe she’s stood in front of all of America on a weekly basis and sang for their approval but she’s biting her finger nervously over the inclusion of a silly little ‘x’ at the end of a tweet. Randy had said that she was maybe too young for this, once, and she wonders how he’d react if he saw her now.

She still clicks refresh over and over and over just incase, and is so busy looking at her timeline that she almost doesn’t see the little light that indicates a new direct message.

 **NiallOfficial**  
How are you?x

If she’s grinning at the screen then that’s entirely understandable and there’s no one there to see her anyway.

 

+

 

Lauren goes back for the finale, gets to sing with Taylor Swift which is _incredible_ , and hangs out with the others in a way that feels so much nicer now they’re not competing.

Tim calls her ‘kid’ and she still doesn’t complain because this is his moment, maybe, and even if it’s not she doesn’t mind. Maybe she is a kid, and that’s okay.

Afterwards Jennifer hugs her and Steven tells her she’s _phenomenal_ in that over the top way of his.

Randy gives her a high-five.

And then it’s over, all of it, and she’s flying back home with promises of keeping in touch and three more suitcases than she arrived with.

Home is familiar and warm and kind of like being hugged but she knows that in a few days it’ll feel less like that and more like _before_. Her mom makes ice tea and they sit on the porch and Lauren knows she gets it, understands that Lauren can’t stay, not for long.

“I love you,” Lauren says, and her mom smiles.

“I know,” she says, and: “you’re going to be a star.”

 

+

 

She gets signed and she’s the only one that’s surprised.

Carrie Underwood asks to collaborate on a track with her and Lauren says _yes, yes please, that would be awesome_ before hanging up and jumping around her room for an hour, laughing the whole time.

Her first single goes in at number three and her album goes to number two.

She runs into Taylor Swift at an awards show and they giggle over Lucas Till’s suit while he pulls faces at them across the room. The next day Taylor’s manager calls Lauren’s and asks if she’d like to open for her on her European tour. Lauren already knows though; Taylor had sent her a text with heaps of exclamation points and a _y/y?_

They go to Paris and Berlin and Rome and Zurich and it’s the best time of Lauren’s life.

 

+

 

London is beautiful and crazy and _alive_ and Lauren thinks it’s amazing. More than amazing.

They’re invited to a special show in the West End, and Taylor whispers the names of British actors and musicians in her ear as she smiles and notices her accent more than ever. Everyone seems to know everyone and Lauren likes that, likes that it’s more a meeting of friends than an _Event_ (still capitalized and italicized in her head) even as she feels out of place.

She’s trying to work out what the hell you say to _Colin Firth_ when someone says “Lauren?” and she turns around.

Niall’s wearing a better fitted suit than the last time she saw him and his hair looks good, messed up stylishly in a way she knows really takes hours. There are two other guys with him ( _Harry and Louis_ , her head provides, and she’s suddenly really thankful for the embarrassing hours she’d spent looking at everything about their band she could find on the internet), their eyes caught on Taylor over Lauren’s shoulder, but Niall’s only looking at her.

“Hi,” she says, and she knows her smile’s too wide but she doesn’t care. “How are you?”

“Great,” he says, and then: “I loved your album.”

“Oh,” she says, “thank you. I love yours too; my band had to ask me to play something else. Um.”

Niall grins (of course he does) and runs a hand across the back of his neck. “How long are you in London for?” he asks and she scuffs the toe of her shoe across the carpet gently as she says “a few days.”

“Cool,” he says, and he’s still not looking at anyone else.

“Yeah,” she says because she isn’t either.

 

+

 

They arrange to meet up in Camden, Taylor tagging along and winking as she promises to disappear when needed. A few people stop them on the way to ask for Taylor’s autograph and she smiles happily and pulls Lauren into the photos too even as Lauren shies away.

One of Niall’s bandmates is laughing as Niall says something, and Lauren feels her cheeks heating up already.

“Hi,” she says, and Niall stops halfway through a sentence, stammering as he says “hey.”

“This is Liam,” he says, and Lauren nods like she doesn’t already know.

“I’m Taylor,” Taylor says even though it’s unnecessary, and Niall and Liam both blink at her in surprise for a second.

“Cool,” Niall says, “so, hey, are you hungry?”

 

+

 

Later, as they’re running for a tube to take them back to the venue, Niall reaches for her hand, looking straight ahead, and Lauren laughs and doesn’t let go.

 

+

 

“So,” Taylor says later that night as they’re curled up in their pajamas watching _Friends_ re-runs. “Niall’s lovely.”

“He is,” Lauren says, ducking her head so her hair falls in front of her face.

Taylor smiles, nudging her gently in the side and turns back to the screen.

“Liam’s lovely too,” she says after awhile and Lauren blinks.

“Yeah?”

“Hmm,” Taylor says. “So, hey, we should see what movies are on.”

Lauren laughs and lets her change the channel.

 

+

 

Niall brings all of his bandmates to their last London show and stands in the wings smiling as Taylor stands a little too close to Liam instead of being backstage like she should be.

Lauren sings and feels electricity thrumming under her skin and then she walks offstage and kisses Niall to the sound of applause, Taylor laughing happily as she passes them by.

She thinks Niall looks surprised when she pulls away but she’s too busy laughing as she runs back to her dressing room.

 

+

 

It’s three a.m. and her phone buzzes on her bedside table.

 _One day I’ll move to LA_ , Niall says, and Lauren pulls her duvet closer around her, burying her head in her pillow.

She sends back a ‘ _Me too_ ’ and then: _Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure we’ll see each other plenty before that_.

She remembers Taylor telling her about Liam’s favorite music and the songs he’s written on the plane ride back home and thinks that maybe age really is irrelevant.

Or maybe they’re all sixteen when it comes to this kind of thing.


End file.
